


Weekenders

by carpemermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beach Holidays, Bed & Breakfast, Board Games, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Gift Fic, HP: EWE, Head of Muggle Liaison Draco Malfoy, Karaoke, Kissing, M/M, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Mutual Pining, POV Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Road Trip Expert Harry Potter, Road Trips, Romance, Sharing a Room, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: As the newly appointed Head of Muggle Liaison, Draco needs more than just knowledge he’s gained from a book to do his job. Potter offers Draco a hands-on experience of Muggle living in the form of a weekend road trip. He doesn’t mention that they’re going to be going full-Muggle, with Potter driving his Muggle sports car.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> Unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. Inspired by [Road Trip](http://digthewriter.livejournal.com/209030.html) by Digthewriter
> 
> Happy birthday Dig!!! I hope you have a great day! Ok, so, this started off as me going through your art to see if there was something I could write to go along with one of your many lovely art pieces, but then I saw [this one](http://digthewriter.livejournal.com/209030.html) and this completely snowballed. I basically took your inspiring summary and ran with it, haha! I hope you enjoy this little gift! Thanks for being one of the first few people I talked to in fandom when I de-lurked, and for always being so friendly, hardworking, and dedicated!

_June, 2006_

“Congratulations, Malfoy,” Longbottom said with a friendly smile as he handed off a scroll for Auror-Muggle Police Liaison. Draco saw him often enough after they both started careers at the Ministry that they’d struck up an amicable office friendship over the last few years. “You deserve the promotion.”

“Thank you, Auror Longbottom,” Draco said as he skimmed Longbottom’s A.M.P.L. scroll. He signed the bottom with a flourish, and dropped the scroll into a tray on his desk that routed liaison paperwork to the proper employee in his department. _His department_. He smiled to himself before turning back to Longbottom. Draco had just been promoted to the Head of Muggle Liaison Department, which worked in tandem with other Ministry departments when they needed to coordinate with the Muggles. He’d spent seven long years working his way up through the ranks.

“Did you see that new film, The Omen?” Longbottom asked. “I heard from Dean that it was really good. He nearly spoiled the ending for me while he told me about it on our stakeout last night.”

“I haven’t had the chance yet, but I’m hoping to see it this weekend,” Draco said. Though he was the newly appointed Head of Muggle Liaisons, his big pitfall was that the cinema was the only Muggle thing he had any real experience with. All of his other knowledge on Muggles came from the books that he devoured after the war in an attempt to distance himself from his mistakes. He kept meaning to immerse himself more in Muggle culture — he even planned to get a mobile phone, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to venture further than the cinema near his flat. He’d tried so many times over the years that he had lived in the neighborhood. It was a mix of Muggle and wizarding on the outskirts of the other, proper wizarding neighborhoods.

“Let me know what you think, I always like your opinion of the cinema better than Dean’s. I love the man, but he has shit taste in films,” Longbottom said with a laugh. Draco gave him a smirk over their shared secret of Dean Thomas’ terrible taste in films for someone who had such an artistic talent.

“I’ll let you know first thing on Monday when you bring coffee. It’s your turn,” Draco said as he sat down at his new desk. His new office had more than twice as much space as his previous, paltry space. He was debating putting a nice set of Queen Anne chairs on the far wall; it would be the perfect spot to overlook the view from his Weather Window. “Once your form goes through Mildred, you’ll be set up with a lunch meeting with the Westminster borough of the Metropolitan Police Department,” Draco reminded Longbottom as he turned to go.

“That means I better stop to get them scones. Those surly bastards never want to be cooperative until I’ve fed them,” Longbottom said with a put upon sigh.

“Better make it the lemon poppy seed from the bakery on the corner,” Draco said gravely.

“Yeah, yeah.” Longbottom waved a hand as he left Draco’s office.

Draco sat back in his new leather chair and slid his latest guidebook from under the morning edition of the _Prophet_. He settled back to read up on Muggle football events, and something called an _ale trail_.

*******

Two days later, as Draco stepped out of the Floo into his flat, he found an unfamiliar owl waiting for him on his window box. He frowned as he set down his satchel and hung his work robe. His mother hadn’t mentioned a new owl, and none of his friends had such a small owl. It jumped up in excitement when it noticed Draco approaching. Draco raised an eyebrow at the small creature when it flew enthusiastically into his kitchenette, zooming two circles around his table before landing. Draco bit his lip to keep from laughing as the tiny owl puffed out its chest importantly. The little thing was smaller than his teapot.

“Hello,” he said belatedly. “I wasn’t expecting an owl from anyone.”

He removed the letter and set it aside, turning to set a bowl of owl pellets in front of the it. The pellets were nearly half the size of the pathetic little bird, but Draco watched as it managed to eat a pellet. He turned back to the letter and opened it. He squinted as he tried to read the unfamiliar scrawl, struggling to decipher what it said.

“Sweet Merlin,” Draco muttered. He tapped his wand on the letter, and nodded in satisfaction as the writing rearranged itself into something more legible. “How hard is that? It’s a spell they teach to first years — everyone should do it before sending their letter.”

Re-reading the letter, his eyebrows crept higher and higher on his forehead. He stared down at the words until they began to blur together. His mind failed to comprehend what they were trying to say. It was from _Potter_ , whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in years. Not only that, Potter was writing to invite him for a weekend away from London on a whim. Draco read the later again, trying to find a hidden meaning behind the baffling words.

_Hello Malfoy,_

_It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, yeah? I think the last time we spoke was probably at the third anniversary dedication ceremony at Hogwarts when your Mum was honored for her efforts during the battle there. It’s wild how the time flies. Anyway, I heard from Neville about your promotion, congratulations. The work your department does is important. Hermione’s always going on about how great it is that the Ministry is taking Muggle relations and Muggle Studies more seriously._

_Neville also said that you like to read a lot about the Muggles, but don’t have all of the necessary experiences you’ll need as the department head. I like to consider myself somewhat of an expert on the weekend trip, now that I’ve been doing them for so many years. I think I’ve taken nearly everyone from our year on a road trip. Or at least, I’ve helped all of them plan one at some point._

_I was going to go for one this weekend, so I thought I would invite you along for some hands-on experience in the Muggle world. I’m not sure if you have a mobile or not, but if you do you can reach me at +44 7700 900524. Or you can send Pig back with your reply if that’s easier for you. I look forward to hearing from you._

_— H. Potter_

Draco stared in astonishment at the little owl that still sat on his table. Potter was inviting him on a road trip, because apparently he was the last person from their year who Potter hadn’t spent a weekend with, all so he could teach Draco more about the Muggle world — ensuring Draco would be better equipped to do his job. He snorted to himself as he tossed the letter down on the table.

“What a fucking presumptuous arsehole,” Draco grumbled as he banged open his cupboards to make tea. “Of all the nerve.”

A high-pitched hoot came from the table in response. Draco spun around to eye the owl speculatively. “Pig?”

The owl — _Pig_ , what a preposterous name for an owl — tilted his head and hopped closer. Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Any chance I can get you to go back to Potter without a response? Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll just go away, and leave me alone.”

Pig flew to his shoulder, perching himself lightly and ruffling his tiny beak through Draco’s hair. He rolled his eyes and resumed making tea, muttering _of course not_ under his breath. After two cups Draco sat at his kitchen table with a blank piece of parchment and a pen he’d stolen from Arthur Weasley’s collection. He debated over how to respond to Potter’s letter. He didn’t want to be biting outright in his reply — they had learned to be somewhat civil to each other over the years of little interaction, after all. Yet, he didn’t have any idea how to react to Potter inviting him on a weekend road trip out of the blue.

Draco took a breath and began carefully crafting his reply, with Pig the owl watching over as his pen glided across the paper.

_Good day Potter,_

_I must admit I found myself quite surprised by your owl. I can’t quite believe it’s been over three years since we last spoke, and briefly at that. I hope this owl finds you in good health, and bright spirits. Your invitation is generous. After much thought on the matter, I have decided to accept your offer. I do not have a mobile yet, but I have listed my flat’s Floo address and Muggle post address below for your convenience. Please send another owl with further details for the weekend’s itinerary so that I will know to pack accordingly. Shall I meet you at an Apparition point, or will we be arranging for a Portkey?_

_Draco Malfoy_  
_Apartment 8,_  
_1 Lloyd’s Row,_  
_Islington,_  
_London, England_

_Floo address: Dragon’s Den Flat_

_I await your next owl._

_— Draco Malfoy_

He set the pen down, biting on his thumb while he read over his response. There were several lines he should change, but Muggle pen ink was more difficult to spell away than the ink used with quills. Pig hooted happily as he pecked at the corner of the page. Draco gently guided the small creature away from poking a hole in his letter and rolled it up. _Sod it_ , he thought, _if he can write me cryptic messages out of the blue, then so can I. Let him stew over what hidden meanings my words might have_.

Once he sent Pig off with his reply to Potter, Draco went into the bathroom to shower. He dressed for bed, and went to read in his sitting area. As soon as he settled himself in front of the fire with a measure of Firewhisky and a guidebook, a tapping at the window interrupted him. He stood and greeted Pig at the window, back with a response from Potter already.

“That was fast,” Draco said. He skimmed over Potter’s instructions with a raised eyebrow.

_Hey Malfoy,_

_Great, I’ll pick you up from your flat at the end of the workday on Friday. I know where your address is, it’s not too far from mine, actually. Funny that we both live in Islington. We’ll go south and along the coastline, so pack for sea weather. I’ve just gotten my Astin back from the shop for a tune up, and I’m looking forward to taking it back out on the road. It’s perfect for drives down south in the summer. If you’re able, you should get a mobile before the weekend. I usually have a spare, but I lent it out to Neville for his case. My Floo address is below if you have any questions before then. See you Friday._

_— H. Potter_

_Floo: Grimmauld Place (and don’t think I’m not going to poke fun at you for your address when I see you)_

Draco groaned, already regretting agreeing to go on the trip with Potter. Merlin, what had he been thinking? He hadn’t seen Potter in three years, why did he have to jump at the first offer of interaction so quickly?

He downed his Firewhisky and decided to go straight to bed so that he wouldn’t dwell on his ancient crush on Harry Potter. He’d reasoned with himself over the years that it was normal to have feelings towards someone who you had shared an intense experience with, let alone someone who had saved your life. It was only natural. He had tried so hard to push those feelings down every time he saw Potter over the years. Now he would be spending two nights with him.

Draco groaned as he covered his face with a pillow.

*******

On Friday he was distracted all day, with half of his mind on the fact that he was meeting up with Potter for a weekend getaway. Draco’s stomach was in knots all afternoon; he felt like he was on a Muggle amusement park ride. He kept reminding himself throughout the day that he was being stupid. Yet, he still rushed through his final department reviews of the week so that he could hurry home to wash up.

He checked and re-checked his luggage, ensuring that he had his wand tucked away in a special holster designed to work with Muggle clothing. He changed into lightweight trousers and a dress shirt, attaching the wand holster so that it activated the warding spell that made Muggles look away from it. Long before he felt he was ready, his buzzer was chiming through the apartment.

“Malfoy, it’s me. Harry. I’m here.” Potter’s disembodied voice carried through he intercom. Draco took a calming breath before pressing the large button on the intercom.

“I’ll be right down,” he said. Draco lifted his bag, and went downstairs to meet Potter. His stomach was curling in on itself again. When Draco opened the door to the street he stopped for a moment, taking in the sight before him. Potter was casually leaning back against his red car with his hands in his pockets. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Harry Potter, looking confident as ever, waiting for him. Draco fully believed he just wanted to show off. There was no way Potter hadn’t used his magic to look like _that_ , clad in all black and more filled out than he’d been three years ago. The last time they’d met Potter still had that boyish look to him. Now he looked like a grown man. Draco swallowed quickly before crossing the road.

Potter came away from the shiny car in a fluid motion with a smirk as Draco came closer.

“Bond. James Bond,” Potter said in a silky tone, confusing Draco. He stared at Potter blankly. Potter laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh. I see we have more work to do than I thought. I’ll tell you about Bond on our way to Kent,” Potter said, as if that would explain everything. Potter took his luggage from him, and stowed it away in the boot before opening the driver’s side door and getting in. As Draco slowly got into the vehicle he grudgingly admitted, in his mind at least, that Potter looked good with the car.

Draco fumbled with the seatbelt, holding his hands up and out of the way when Potter reached over to buckle it for him. He eyed the numerous dials along the dashboard, and jumped when the engine rumbled to life. Potter hummed under his breath as he put the car in gear, his hand resting on the shift between them, and drove down the road. After the first few sharp turns, Draco slowly relaxed in his seat. He was half-dumbfounded-half-fascinated watching Potter operate the car with ease as he drove them out of the city. His fingers tapped on the leather steering wheel, his touch was familiar and practiced. Every time he shifted gears, Draco’s eyes were drawn to the way his hand gripped the gearshift. He flushed when his mind supplied him with a vivid fantasy of whether or not Potter might grip his dick in the same way. He quickly glanced out the window, watching the buildings pass by.

“The Astin’s a classic, you know,” Potter offered as they were leaving the outskirts of London behind.

“I beg your pardon?” Draco asked, dragging his attention from the other cars on the motorway.

“This car, it’s a ’72 Aston Martin. Muggles consider it a classic model because of the era it was built in, and because the brand of the car is widely known as the James Bond car,” Potter elaborated. “I picked it because I saw it in a Bond film.”

“And who is this Bond character?” Draco asked.

“He’s a Muggle spy that there’s a series of films about,” Potter explained. “James Bond is a rite of passage to understanding Muggles. I introduced Ron, Neville, and Dean to it. I suggest a movie marathon at your earliest convenience.”

“I know things about Muggles, Potter, they wouldn’t have promoted me otherwise,” Draco said, struggling to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. Draco was the head of a whole department dealing with liaising with Muggles. He’d been working in that department for years. He was affronted that Potter would just assume he knew nothing at all just because he didn’t get out much.

“More than just the things you read about in those books of yours?” Potter said, jerking his chin towards the guidebook in Draco’s lap without taking his eyes off the road. His hand rested easily on top of the steering wheel; Draco sneered at his obvious attempt to show off his comfort and confidence with driving on the motorway.

“I know about the cinema,” Draco muttered petulantly, turning to watch the other cars passing by. He curled his fingers tightly around his book. Potter glanced over at him with a curious look that Draco caught out of the corner of his eye.

“The cinema is pretty great, isn’t it?” Potter asked gently, seemingly offering an olive branch in apology. He shifted in his seat to dig around in his pocket while he kept the wheel steady with one hand. Draco gripped his own seat tightly as the car swerved slightly before Potter corrected their course. “Here,” he said, tossing a wallet in Draco’s lap. “My license is in there. The photo is downright awful. I got it shortly after the war. I spent my days soul searching and finding myself on weekend road trips. That’s when I figured out I didn’t really want to be an Auror. Anyway, I’ve managed to make myself into somewhat of an expert on the weekend getaway, like I said in my letter.”

“How did you learn how to drive?” Draco asked as he examined the plastic card with Potter’s information on it.

“Oh, through Dean actually. His mum’s got a friend who teaches people to drive.” Potter reached over and opened the glove box, dumping several travel brochures into Draco’s lap. “I have several different weekend itineraries, but I think this one we’re going on is the best to let you dip your toes in.”

“Where are you taking us?”

“We’re heading down to Kent for the night, and in the morning we’ll drive out to Cornwall,” Potter said. He glanced over at Draco with a mischievous look. “Are you more of a pub person, or a club person?”

“Why do I have to be either?” Draco asked with a frown.

“Well, knowing which will help me pick where to take you when we get to Canterbury. There’s plenty of nightclubs, pubs, and comedy clubs there, so it all depends on your taste,” Potter said. Draco eyed Potter suspiciously. The idea of going to a club appealed in the sense that he would get to force Potter to dance, which had the potential to be amusing. He decided to play it safe.

“Let’s do a pub then, I suppose,” Draco said.

*******

The sun was just setting as they checked in to their bed and breakfast. Potter let him have twenty minutes to put his things in his room and freshen up before they met downstairs.

“Where are we off to?” Draco asked.

“Bishops Finger, it’s nearby. It’s a historic pub from the sixteenth century that has live music,” Potter said as he started down the street. Draco had to jog for a moment to catch up with him. There was a group of people standing outside the pub when they got there, all wearing rugby shirts in different team colours. Potter nodded to one of them as he led the way inside.

Draco paused for a moment, taking in the sights and sounds bombarding him. There were more people with rugby shirts, as well as football ones, crowding into the space. Televisions hung from different vantage points, each showing a different sporting event. People shouted at different intervals. When Draco looked over at Potter he saw him grinning at him.

“Come on, there’s a spot through the next room that’s a little quieter. It’s warm enough to sit outside, I think,” Potter said, placing his hand on the small of Draco’s back to guide him. His palm was warm, and Draco felt his skin light up like a live wire at the small contact. He mourned the loss when Potter pulled his hand away. They chose a small table in the outdoor beer garden far enough away from where a live band was playing so that they could still talk easily. Potter was the first to get up and order drinks for them both. He came back and set down an amber-coloured pint in front of him. “It’s Spitfire, one of their specialties. It’s all local brews here; they’re quite good.”

Draco took a careful sip and hummed at the citrusy flavour of the ale.

“Good, right?” Potter asked with the same charming, lopsided smile he seemed to have just for him. Draco nodded and took a larger sip. “They’ve got board games behind the bar we can borrow, too, if you’d like to play a round of something.”

“What, like Gobstones?” Draco turned half an ear to the band that was playing. They were no Weird Sisters, but the singer certainly was easy on the eyes. He wore tight black jeans that encased his legs in all the right places and left little to Draco’s imagination. He looked on appreciatively as he drank his beer.

“Well nothing that we’d know from school, _obviously_ ,” Potter said with a chuckle. “But the usual staples — I think I saw Scrabble, Jenga, and there’s probably a dart board around somewhere as well.”

“Scrabble? Jen-guh? What are those?” Draco asked distractedly as the singer arched his back and crooned into his microphone. Potter followed his gaze before looking back at him.

“Jen _ga_. They’re Mug — er… they’re just games that _people_ play. Much like Gobstones,” Potter said, glancing around them. He had an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. Draco looked at him speculatively, toying with his beer mat.

“Very well, Potter, let’s play one of these games. I’m sure I’ll still be able to beat your arse,” he said with a devious smirk.

“Fine. Here, why don’t you get us a refill while you go pick out a game. I’ll have another pint of Bishops Finger,” Potter said, handing over a paper note. Draco stared at the Muggle money for a moment before he nodded and got up. The point of this weekend was to interact with Muggles; he had to put himself out there. _I wouldn’t mind putting myself out there with that Muggle singer for the night_ , he thought as he made his way through the crowd inside to the bar.

People were still shouting and laughing loudly. It was a boisterous type of atmosphere that Draco hadn’t been subjected to in a long time. Someone jostled him as he managed to make it the bar. He waved the bartender over with his money in his hand after observing a Muggle at the end of the bar doing the same.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Pint of Spitfire and a pint of Bishops Finger, please,” Draco said, shouting a little to be heard over a rambunctious cheer from the table behind him. When the bartender placed the pints in front of him Draco handed him the money and pointed to the stack of games behind the bar. “Could I have one of those, too?”

“Which one?”

“Er…the Jenga,” Draco said quickly, after a moment of indecision. He didn’t have any idea what sort of game he had picked. The bartender set the box on the bar top, along with his change, and moved on to the next patron. Draco scooped the coins, drinks, and game into his arms and awkwardly carried it all back to their table outside. The singer had moved onto a more upbeat number that had Potter tapping his foot and nodding his head. He smiled warmly at Draco when he returned.

“I almost sent a search party after you,” Potter teased. Draco took a sip of his pint to punish him and immediately made a face. Potter threw his head back and laughed loudly.

“That is gutter swill, that’s what that is,” Draco said, taking a deep swig from his own pint to wash the bitter, strong taste out of his mouth. He tasted a hint of a fruity aftertaste that he couldn’t quite place, but the hoppy flavour was still overpowering. “Oh, do shut up,” Draco admonished when Potter still hadn’t stopped laughing.

“Your face!” Potter said, trying to catch his breath. He drank deeply from his beer, making an over exaggerated sound of satisfaction complete with lip smacking. “It’s good. I like it, anyway.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t order the same for me,” Draco said. He picked up the game and began to read the side of the box. He dumped the wooden pieces onto the table, and snatched the direction pamphlet out of Potter’s hand when he picked it up. Potter smirked at him as he began to stack the blocks into a tower. Draco skimmed the directions and raised an eyebrow. “There are no real consequences to this game, not like Exploding Snap. How boring.”

“Just play for a little bit, and then tell me if you don’t find any consequences,” Potter said cryptically. He made the first move, and then coached Draco through his own. Once they were a few turns in Draco started to understand. Predictably, he got competitive. When they finally got to a turn where Draco couldn’t make any easy moves he narrowed his eyes at Potter. “You’ve cheated somehow.”

“I have not! It’s almost impossible to cheat at this game. And besides, you’re the cheating type here, not me. Gryffindors are all honourable,” Potter said with a self-righteous air. Draco rolled his eyes and very carefully selected a block to nudge out of the tower. “Come on, make your move, Malfoy.”

“I am! Don’t rush me,” Draco complained. He held his breath as he delicately tapped on the wooden piece until it was in the clear. He exhaled heavily with relief, grinning smugly at Potter. “Hah, beat that!”

“Gladly and with extreme pleasure,” Potter said, his eyes flashing. Draco’s heart skipped a beat, and his stomach turned over at Potter’s taunting words. He took a quick drink from his glass to cover up the bolt of desire that shot through him. He watched Potter eye the tower strategically. “Sometime today, if you please, Potter. Some of us have better things to do,” Draco said, nodding towards the attractive Muggle singer. “I wouldn’t mind getting a bit of _hands-on_ experience with him later, for instance.”

Potter looked over at the band, then back at Draco with a pinched, narrow expression. He glared at the tower and picked a block at random to push out. Draco laughed in triumphant delight as the tower began to wobble. Potter bit his lip in concentration as he tried to get his block out without taking out the tower. Draco applauded with glee when it all came down to the table with a loud crash.

“Oh, bravo, Potter, bravo!” Draco said. “I win! What do I get for that?”

“What do you want?” Potter asked, his lips quirking up at the corners. Draco didn’t miss the way Potter’s eyes quickly flitted over his body. Potter met his eyes again and the cheeky bastard winked at him. “Refill?”

Before Draco had a chance to answer either of Potter’s questions, or even contemplate whether or not he was serious about flirting with him, he was halfway across the beer garden. Draco picked up his beer mat and played with the soggy edges as thoughts raced through his head. _Should I flirt back? What happens if I flirt back, and then he flirts some more?_ Draco swallowed thickly as he pictured Potter knocking on his door in the middle of the night with his charming smile that melted Draco from the inside out.

Potter returned before Draco could picture where they would go from there. He set down a fresh pint in front of him, and neither of them spoke as they watched the band pack up their equipment. Draco silently marveled at how many electrical cords it took to power things. He could see Potter looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Now’s your chance to talk to him,” Potter said quietly. Draco snapped his attention back to Potter, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. His green eyes were bright and intense, full of promise. Draco could have fun with the Muggle for one night, but it wouldn’t be anything meaningful — not like what it could be if Potter really was flirting with him. He licked his lips, paying close attention to the way Potter’s eyes tracked the movement.

“I thought there was more to experience at this pub? We’ve only played one game so far, and they’re going to set up carry-oaky soon.” Draco held Potter’s gaze as he sipped his pint. After a beat Potter’s smile was back, brighter than it was before.

“Good. I ordered food for us while I was at the bar,” Potter said.

“How did you know what I would want without asking me? What if I don’t like it?” Draco asked quickly as Potter stood back up to fetch their order.

“I watched you closely enough at Hogwarts to know what your tastes are.” Potter winked at him again as he turned to leave. Draco stared at his retreating back, feeling like his eyebrows had flown off of his face from how high up on his forehead they were. He supposed Potter’s statement was true enough, but how was it that he _still_ remembered what Draco liked all these years later?

“Merlin, help me,” Draco mumbled to himself.

When Potter returned he set down a steaming plate of salty fish and chips for himself, and soup with bread and a side salad for Draco. The food smelled heavenly, and Draco’s stomach growled in appreciation. He realised he hadn’t eaten much since breakfast. They tucked into their food as the first of the karaoke singers took the stage, entertaining everyone with their mediocre singing and lively performance.

“So, what are your thoughts so far on widening your cultural experiences?” Potter asked after a few minutes.

“Well, the area with the televisions is a bit loud for my tastes, but this is pleasant enough. Although, I suppose with this carry-oaky business we’re bound to be forced to sit through some truly terrible singing,” Draco said, waving his hand towards the stage. Potter snorted and nodded.

“Karaoke, not carry. Part of the charm of it, I’m afraid,” he said. They fell into silence again as they ate and listened to the different singing volunteers.

“Thank you,” Draco said belatedly as he stole another chip from Potter’s plate.

“For dinner? You’re welcome,” Potter said as he drenched his cod in vinegar.

“No. I meant for all of this, actually. I’m glad I took you up on your offer,” Draco explained.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came.” Potter’s eyes lit up every time he smiled, and Draco’s heart clenched tighter and tighter each time.

After Draco had stolen nearly all of Potter’s chips, the staff member overseeing the karaoke reminded the crowd that signups were still open. Potter nudged him with his foot.

“Go on, do it,” Potter said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Karaoke. Sign up! You haven’t really lived as a Muggle until you’ve tried it,” Potter claimed in an undertone as he leaned close to Draco’s ear. He nudged Draco’s foot again.

“I will do no such thing,” Draco assured him, trying to ignore Potter’s proximity. He pointed a finger at Potter. “If you’re so keen on it, then you should do it.”

“Fine. I will,” Potter said, standing. Draco blinked. He hadn’t actually expected Potter to sign up, but he supposed his bravery was still very much intact.

Potter waved to him from the short line by the stage before he turned to flip through a booklet. When Potter got up on stage he made Draco laugh with his performance. He belted out an upbeat tune that was slightly off key, but it got the whole bar singing along with him about someone named Caroline. Draco felt his heart thudding in time with the music while Potter stared directly at him, pointing at Draco while he sang with the charm turned up to eleven. His breath caught as Potter finished his tune and blew a kiss to the crowd before he wove his way back through the tables to their spot.

“See? It’s fun,” Potter declared.

“Yes, I do see,” Draco said vaguely. Potter seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on him.

They had a few more drinks, playing more of the board games the bar had to offer. Draco thought the rules to the games were all ridiculous, but he managed to find a way to play to his advantage so he could beat Potter at every round. Potter took each of his losses graciously, offering Draco a prize for each of his wins.

“Careful, Potter, I will remember how many prizes you owe me now. At some point I will come calling to collect all of them,” Draco said in a singsong voice, feeling pleasantly tipsy from a night of drinking. He swayed into Potter’s side as they walked back to their bed and breakfast to turn in for the night.

“I look forward to it,” Potter said, laughing and wrapping his arm around Draco to steady him. Draco hummed as he pressed closer into Potter’s side.

*******

After an early breakfast they were packed back into the compact sport car, and were on their way to Cornwall. Potter kept on hand resting on top of the steering wheel and the other on the gearshift with his fingers dangling close to Draco’s thigh. He felt hyperaware of the distance between Potter’s fingertips and his leg, wishing Potter would rest his hand on his thigh instead of the shift.

“What did you think of the nightlife culture?” Potter asked after the first thirty minutes of the drive. He was thankful for the distraction of slowly going mad from his intent focus on Potter’s fingers.

“Alcohol is alcohol, whether it’s wizarding or Muggle. People go out to socialize and have a good time. I don’t find it much different than going to a wizard gathering,” he retorted archly. Potter snorted at that.

“Yeah, try going to the Weasley weddings and getting strong armed into Charlie Weasley’s Romanian moonshine,” Potter commented. “So you agree that there isn’t much difference between Muggles and wizards, socially speaking? We all just want to go out and have a good time, yeah?”

“I suppose,” Draco admitted. “I would need much more exposure to them to make an informed decision.”

“Of course,” Potter agreed easily. They lulled back into a comfortable silence, and he was able to relax.

Draco fell asleep with his head against the window, waking when the car jostled and slowed. He blearily blinked at Potter, who smirked at him. Draco hoped he hadn’t been snoring or drooling. He discreetly wiped a hand against his mouth to check. Potter’s eyebrow twitched up, and Draco was sure he was caught out at what he was doing. He silently swore in his head.

“We’re stopping for lunch,” Potter said. Draco looked around at the lush, rolling hills dotted with trees and green pastures that surrounded the road they were stopped on.

“Where are we?” Draco asked in a sleep-scratchy voice. They both exited the car into the warm June sun. Potter rooted around in his boot, and Draco peeked over his shoulder to find that it had been expanded magically. “Undetectable Extension Charm? I thought your car was all Muggle.”

“Well, I am a wizard. The actual boot to these coupes are a joke,” Potter said with a cheeky wink. To Draco’s surprise, Potter produced a picnic lunch. “We took the scenic route through South Downs National Park. It’s nice, isn’t it? It’s brilliant in the early morning when you can see the fog,” he explained as he set the basket down on the hood of the car. He pulled out bread, cheese, and finger sandwiches. “Molly always makes me a basket when I go away for the weekend.”

“Molly? Mrs Weasley, you mean?”

“Yeah. Here, try this,” Potter said, handing over a sandwich. He took a bite and made a pleased sound of appreciation before he could tamp down on it. Potter nodded in agreement as he chewed. Draco had to admit the food was delicious. They tucked in, finishing more than half of the basket’s seemingly endless contents. Draco watched as a flock of sheep ambled across one of the far fields, feeling filled with a sense of contentment.

“Come on. We have a few more hours to Cornwall,” Potter said, brushing off his hands.

Draco enjoyed the rest of the scenic route through the countryside until they reached the motorway again.

*******

After arriving in Cornwall they walked around the small seaside town they were staying in. They crossed a cobblestone path to explore the island of St Michael’s Mount to view the historic fort. Draco kept catching Potter’s eyes on him throughout the day; it made him flush and glance away quickly. Late in the afternoon Potter took him to a souvenir shop full of tacky knick-knacks where Draco bought his mother a brightly coloured snow globe that depicted a garish beach scene. They both laughed at the different wares in the store, trying to one up each other for finding the most ridiculous souvenir to take home. Potter tried on several sunhats for ladies, and modeled for Draco with even more preposterous sunglasses. Draco laughed until his sides hurt with stitches, clutching onto Potter for support. Potter’s hand brushed up his back in a caress and chuckled into his ear. Draco’s breath caught, and he gripped Potter tighter for a moment before he got a hold of himself again. As they were leaving the shop he tugged on Potter’s arm, and picked up a brochure for the Cornish Seal Sanctuary.

“Potter, look!” Draco held up the pamphlet. He leaned in close and whispered, “Do we have time to see this? Does the Ministry know that there is a Selkie sanctuary down here?”

“They’re seals,” Potter pointed out with an amused laugh. He wrapped an arm back around Draco, and steered him towards the next section of shops. “Maybe next time. We should get dinner soon.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he said in a snarky tone. “You should plan an entire trip dedicated to seeing them. What relation do they have to Selkies, then?” Draco asked curiously. The warmth of Potter’s body pressed along his side distracted him; Potter’s musky sweat and aftershave was tempting him to lean over and inhale deeply. 

“Have you had enough of the shops? We should go find our bed and breakfast to check in before we go find something to do for the evening,” Potter said, pulling Draco out of his thoughts about how good he smelled.

“Very well,” Draco agreed, stepping away from Potter’s touch. Their accommodations weren’t a far walk from the village. Draco enjoyed the sea view, and the salt air. The harbor was dotted with sailboats in different colours, and the beaches they passed were still filled with people as the sun started to dip towards the horizon. When they reached their destination Potter held out an arm to allow Draco up the steps to the townhouse first.

“After you,” Potter said. Draco entered, glancing around the entrance hall before he followed Potter over to the small welcome desk, standing close by his side.

“Good afternoon, gentleman. Checking in?” The woman behind the desk had a friendly, welcoming face that reminded Draco of Professor Sprout.

“Yes, the booking is under Potter.” Draco listened with half an ear while he looked around the common area, and into the dining room.

“It’s a single room with two beds. I’m afraid we’re all booked up, and don’t have any double beds left,” the woman told them. Draco spun around quickly. Potter stuck a hand out and patted his arm.

“That’s fine, we’ll manage. Thank you,” Potter said. Draco tamped down on the urge to make a scene. The woman thought they were a couple that wanted a double bed? How ridiculous. He knew it wasn’t the Muggle’s fault that they only had one room left during prime holiday season. He was an adult now, he told himself. Potter was right; they would manage. He could survive one night of a shared room with Potter. It would be just like sleeping in a dormitory again.

“Up the stairs, first door on the left. There’s a lovely bay window that overlooks the garden. We hope you enjoy your stay. Please let me know if you need any assistance,” the woman said as she handed over a key. They went up to drop their bags off.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Potter asked as Draco set his bag down on the first bed near the door. He stood by the window with his forearm braced against the wall. Draco let his eyes roam over Potter’s back and down over his arse before he jumped and realised he was taking too long to answer. He darted his eyes back to the bed.

“Whatever you think is best. This town seems a little sleepier than the hubbub of Canterbury,” Draco said. “I like it,” he added as an afterthought.

“I’m glad. We’ll do some more sightseeing in the morning before we drive back to London.” Potter turned away from the window, and rooted through his rucksack. “Why don’t we both shower, and then go find someplace to eat.”

Draco’s mind was immediately filled with ideas of them showering _together_. He bit his lip as he thought of the steam curling around them both as their fingers explored their wet skin and rippling muscles. He sucked in a breath, jumping when Potter spoke again, closer than he was before. “I’ll hop in first, if that’s alright.”

Draco nodded quickly, turning away so Potter wouldn’t see the flush of his cheeks. He could handle this — it was only a crush. He was an _adult_ , he reminded himself. He needed to get a hold of himself. Draco resolutely turned his mind to the meetings on his schedule for Monday instead of listening to the shower running, or thinking of Potter’s hands soaping up his body. If Draco thought his crush was an inconvenience when Potter still resembled a half-starved teenager with an insufficient amount of sleep, he was blindsided by how he felt now that Potter had filled out and got fit.

“Stop being so ridiculous,” Draco scolded himself under his breath.

Far sooner than he was ready, the shower turned off. Draco swallowed as he heard the door opening behind him.

“All yours,” Potter said. Draco’s heart skipped a beat at hearing him say those words. He turned around, his eyes quickly skating over Potter’s body. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and another around his shoulders. He used one end to towel off his thick mop of hair. Draco stared, transfixed, as droplets ran from the dusting of curls on Potter’s muscled chest down his skin and into his navel. His brain felt like it was short-circuiting He made a faint sound without meaning to, and snapped his eyes back up to meet Potters. His face felt hot, flaming with embarrassment. Potter was smiling gently at him. “Go on and shower. I’ll look up a good place to eat while you’re getting cleaned up.”

Draco nodded mutely as he hurried into the bathroom with his toiletries. He rushed through his shower routine in record time, resolutely ignoring his eager prick in favor of turning the shower temperature to a frigid degree while he calmed down. He got out and wrapped himself in a towel. He hesitated before dressing, deciding to give Potter a taste of his own medicine. A wicked grin stole across his face as he glanced at himself in the mirror. Draco strode out of the bathroom confidently. He slowly selected what to wear for the evening, laying his clothes on the bed.

“Did you pick a place to eat?” Draco asked innocently, looking at Potter from the corner of his eye. He bit down on a satisfied smirk when Potter eyed him appreciatively, not so subtly checking him out.

“I did. There’s a nearby inn we can eat at, and then if you’d like to go out there are cocktail lounges and a nightclub,” Potter said, his voice sounding slightly out of breath. His eyes were glued to Draco’s pale chest as he did up his trousers. Draco held off on putting on his shirt until he had his hair dried and coiffed. Potter’s eyes tracked his movements. There was a certain sensual intimacy to letting someone watch as he dressed. He liked the feeling of Potter’s eyes on him as he buttoned up his shirt with nimble fingers. He imagined it would feel even better to have him undress him. He ducked his head to hide his blush. Draco finally finished getting ready, and turned to face him.

“All ready,” he said with a flourished gesture of his hand. Potter nodded dumbly, licking his lips.

“Right. Yes,” Potter said, clearing his throat. “Let’s go.”

The evening air felt balmy on Draco’s skin as they walked to the inn for dinner. They ended up finding a nice place with a beautiful view.

All throughout dinner Draco made it his mission to figure out if Potter really was serious or not about his flirting. He ordered food he could eat in the most sensual way, enjoying Potter’s dazed look. At one point during their meal Potter’s foot shifted over to rest against his, and he didn’t move it until they were ready to leave. Their conversation flowed easily enough as they caught up with what they each had been up to in the last few years. Potter surprised Draco by asking intelligent, thoughtful questions about his department and the way he planned to run it. He seemed impressed by Draco’s knowledge, and his plans for the department. He also made Draco laugh with his stories of other trips around the country, and promised to properly introduce him to the joys of James Bond.

Draco managed to talk Potter into trying the nightclub, even succeeding at getting him to promise one dance with Draco. It wasn’t a long walk from where they ate, and the atmosphere pleasantly surprised Draco. It was more of a cosy lounge than a big city nightclub, like he was more familiar with. After two drinks he finally managed to drag Potter onto the dance floor. They laughed as they danced, drifting closer and closer together until Potter’s hands found his hips and kept him form moving away. Draco slowly slid his hands up Potter’s arms, resting them on his shoulders as they swayed to the music. He held his breath when Potter’s nose nudged against his ear, and he swore he felt a brief press of his lips against his neck.

It was late when they finally started walking back to their accommodations. They drifted close to each other until Potter stumbled and stopped, his hand catching his arm. Draco turned to look back at Potter, struck by how he looked in the moonlight reflecting off the nearby sea. Potter’s eyes looked like liquid emeralds, and they bore into his in an intense stare. Draco stepped closer, angling his head to the side as he leaned in to kiss Potter. Their moment was broken by a group of girls walking by, laughing and catcalling at them. They were all dressed up for a hen night.

“Come on, let’s get back,” Draco said, threading his fingers with Potters and tugging him along. Potter sighed, but didn’t stop to recapture the moment of their near-kiss the rest of the journey back to the bed and breakfast.

They both got ready for bed in comfortable silence. Draco stole appreciative glances at Potter’s muscular thighs as he stripped down to his pants and crawled beneath the sheets. As Draco was drifting off, Potter spoke up, startling him from the cusp of sleep.

“Why don’t you ever come around to the pub nights or dinner parties?” Potter asked quietly. “Our social circles overlap now, y’know. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you for so long.”

Draco hesitated before answering, curious at the hint of longing Potter didn’t quite manage to mask behind the innocent inquiry.

“I’m…focused on my career,” he said, staring at the ceiling as he searched for the right words. “I’ve never really thought the invitations I received were that serious, I suppose. I live a quiet life in my flat, with regular visits to my mother and to the cinema.”

“That sounds like a very lonely existence, rather than a life,” Potter said. Draco didn’t want to respond to that, thinking of how alive and happy he’d felt during the evening with Potter. He wanted to speak up — wanted to tell him that he liked dancing with him, and holding his hand.

“Goodnight, Potter,” Draco said instead. He rolled over to face the wall.

*******

After checking out of their accommodations, they were back in the car. They spent the morning driving around Cornwall to see more of the beach towns. Neither of them brought up the previous night. Draco was afraid if he brought it up that Potter would admit to regretting the evening, or that he hadn’t meant any of his flirtatious comments. Potter drove them to St. Agnes Heritage Coast to stroll along the beach, and look at the craggy cliffs.

Their hands brushed as they picked their way across the rocks, watching the waves splash against them. They didn’t talk much — they hadn’t said anything of serious consequence since the previous night. Draco’s attention was on the gulls calling out and swooping down into the sea to fish for their breakfast.

“Look at that cave,” Potter said, pointing to the other end of the rocky stretch of beach. “It reminds me of one I saw with Dumbledore once,” he said with a sad, solemn expression that made Draco’s heart ache a bit in sympathy. He didn’t want to dwell on what happened in the past. Draco scanned the horizon line and nudged Potter’s side.

“I think I just saw a whale.” When Potter gave him a sceptical look he stood beside him and pointed, using his arm as a sightline for Potter. “There. See?”

“No, but that’s okay,” Potter said. He sounded in better spirits, to Draco’s relief. They explored more of the small beach. Potter dared him to dip his toes in the water, and laughed loudly when Draco screeched at the chilly temperature. Draco splashed him in retaliation, and they chased each other along the shoreline like schoolchildren until they were both breathless. The way Potter was looking at him made his stomach swoop, and he was suddenly sad that their weekend away was coming to an end. He wanted this feeling all the time. He wanted it with Potter.

By unspoken mutual agreement they put their shoes on and left the beach, weaving their way through the small village streets. When they got back to the car Potter stopped Draco for a moment, staring at him while the ocean breeze whipped his hair around.

“What?” he asked, fearing he had sand or seaweed in his hair.

“I think you should accept more of the invitations you get,” Potter said, surprising Draco.

“Why is that?”

“Because, then I’ll see you there. I’m usually always there when Neville invites everyone out, or when Luna and Pansy have a get together at their place. I had a good time taking you away this weekend,” Potter said in a rush. He ran a hand through his hair, and pinned Draco with his green eyes. Draco flushed and swallowed thickly, his feelings from over half a decade ago clawing their way up from where he’d buried them deep.

“I had a good time, as well, Potter. Thank you,” Draco said, unsure of what else to say to him. Potter took a step closer and carefully tucked Draco’s hair behind his ear, safe from the ocean breeze. His hand hovered by Draco’s face, his fingers just barely brushing against his skin to cup his jaw. Potter’s eyes darted back and forth as he stared at him. Slowly, as if Draco were an animal he didn’t want to startle, he moved close until Draco’s back was pressed against the sun-warmed car. Potter’s body melded to his. It seemed to take an eternity before their lips met. Time felt like it was standing still. Then — as soon as their lips finally touched — everything sped up again as he felt himself come alive under the kiss.

It was gentle and insistent all at once, both asking if it was okay and pleading that it would be. Draco parted his lips easily, his tongue sliding against Potter’s as their kiss deepened. Potter made a small sound in his throat when Draco nipped at his lip. He felt his toes curling as Potter pressed closer, sliding his fingers into his hair and wrapping his other arm around Draco’s waist. Just as slowly as they’d started, they parted reluctantly, still stealing chaste kisses until Draco could feel himself grinning. Potter had an answering grin that was just as bright and lively. He reached down and twined their fingers together.

“Ready to go back home?” Potter asked. Draco’s stomach fluttered pleasantly in excitement at his words. He nodded, pulling Potter into another kiss before Draco released him.

*******

Potter pulled the car up in front of Draco’s apartment building late in the evening. His hand was warm where it rested on Draco’s leg. He had squeezed occasionally throughout their long drive back to London. Draco’s fingers had traced intricate patterns over the back of his hand the whole time. He had grinned lasciviously every time Potter shot him a dirty, tortured look and shifted to adjust himself. Potter gave his leg another squeeze before shifting the car into park.

“So, how was your experience of a weekend immersed in Muggle life?” Potter asked, turning to him. Draco took a moment to consider, drawing it out to make him squirm in the driver’s seat.

“I think I’ll need a lot more _hands-on_ experience with Muggle culture before I can deem myself fully qualified to take on the full responsibilities of my Ministry position,” he assured him, smirking. He hoped Potter understood what he was implying without saying it outright — that he wanted to have more weekends with him.

“Well, in that case, you definitely should get a mobile before our next trip,” Potter urged. Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

“You should plan another one soon, so I have more incentive,” he teased.

Potter leaned close to breathe hotly against his ear. He traced his hand up Draco’s leg suggestively as he spoke. “There are other benefits to the mobile that would definitely count as incentive, but you’ll just have to get one to find out,” he hinted in a sultry tone. Draco swallowed, turning to capture Potter’s lips in a heated kiss that left both of them panting when they separated.

Potter helped him get his bag from the boot, tugging him close by his belt loops for one last sweet kiss. When they pulled apart Potter traced a finger across his cheek. “See you at the pub on Friday? You’ll come with Neville and Dean?”

Draco nodded, biting his lip at Potter’s earnest expression. His face lit up at Draco’s affirmation.

“Brilliant!” Potter swatted his arse playfully as he turned to cross the street. He shot him a dirty look over his shoulder.

“Behave, or I won’t watch the Bond films with you,” Draco said. He smirked when Potter looked properly chastised. Potter’s words from the night before echoed through Draco’s head as he waved and went home to his flat.

 _All yours_.


End file.
